Saturday, March 29, 2008

Run Across Africa

Their names are Erin and Reuben and they are going to Run Across Africa. From the Atlantic Ocean in Namibia, through Zambia and Tanzania to Dar es Salaam and the Indian Ocean. That's a distance of 4200km so they'll average a marathon a day for 100 days. Its possible that they are in fact crazy, but they are undoubtedly passionate and dedicated. Dozens of sponsors are contributing and the money raised will go to education programs in the countries they are running through.

It makes me want to jump on a plane and go, I suppose that's rather predictable of me... jumping on a plane to Africa. But instead I get to contribute in another, positively vicarious way. I'm on the medical support team. How cool is that?!? The 'team' includes two docs from Victoria, myself, and my friend Teresa, a fellow resident at St. Paul's. We'll take turns being 'on call' for the runners and their support team as they jog across the continent. There's something rather exciting about being on call in Africa despite being planted quite firmly in Vancouver. Our 'remote' medical service will include text messages and emailed questions about diarrhea, dehydration, sprained ankles, malaria, bug bites and hopefully nothing catastrophic. It feels good to be involved in something bigger than my current world of residency, St. Paul's, and yuppie Vancouver life.

Check out the web-site.

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

That cracking and hissing is the sound of your fading youth

"Can we try something a bit more technical?" Fatal last words before we dropped over the edge of the mountain on those swanky full suspension mountain bikes and I launched myself over the handle bars within the first minute. It was spectacular, painfully exquisite even. Both my dramatic wipe outs and the view across Lake Atitlan as we wound our way down the mountain towards the sparkling water surrounded by volcanoes. If you're hiking and slip, you might cut yourself on the rocks but its a bit of a different story when there's a large piece of metal entwined between your legs. I was pillaged by that bicycle, worth every minute though! Gears cracking followed by the hiss of air from the back tire... either that or my knees were cracking and hissing. At the end of the day, I realized I had reached a new stage in life, where you take ibuprofen before doing ridiculous things like mountain biking down a volcano instead of after when the pain has already set in. Truth is, I'm getting old!

The biking was the culminations of an incredible week at a women's health conference in Guatemala. The content included topics like women's health and human rights as well as discussions of current challenges in sexual rights in Guatemala. It was absolutely fascinating to dialogue with Guatemalan obstetricians about their take on unsafe abortions and how to decrease maternal deaths from post-partum hemorrhage. A statistic I did not know was that abortion rates remain the same whether it is legal or illegal in the country. As usual, medical problems are often more about social and ethical issues than science.

It was delicious to all my senses to be back in Latin America. Life somehow seems more brilliant in colour, the pools are deeper, the smells more marked, life appears fuller and more vibrant to me. Spanish rolling off my tongue, gorging myself on fresh fruit and avocados the size of my head (okay, not quite). I soaked in all the colourful textiles, the familiar foods, the sounds of life and joy and pain, my soul danced again.

On a hike up Pacaya, a rather active volcano, I realized I had not forgiven my parents for something that happened in grade 8. My geology class went on a field trip to the crater of Huahua Pichincha, the volcano that towers over the city of Quito. They wouldn't let me go down the crater, ridiculous I though! So I sat on the crater's edge with the other two losers who also had been cheated out of this life changing learning experience. Oh the misery! So as I stood but a meter from the bright orange river of lava, my skin tingling and my soles melting I finally let it go. Mom, dad... you're off the hook, I got my fix!